


A Measure of Love

by wanderingscholarlad



Category: The Old Guard (Movie 2020)
Genre: Fluff, Hangry Nicky, Lazy Mornings, M/M, Mentioned - Andy, Mentioned - Nile, Morning Cuddles, Warm and Fuzzy Feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-27
Updated: 2020-09-27
Packaged: 2021-03-07 21:21:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,343
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26674309
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wanderingscholarlad/pseuds/wanderingscholarlad
Summary: When they have the freedom to, they all like to sleep in. Andy won’t roll out of bed until well past midday and Nile gets up around ten and then migrates to the couch or to a patch of sunlight to sprawl out like a content house cat. Well, a content house cat fuelled by coffee and novels.Joe gets up early for salat al-fajr and then comes back to bed. Nicky usually hasn’t even shifted from where he’s curled up in a ball, one hand clutching the blankets and the other tucked under his pillow.-Literally just sleepy morning cuddles
Relationships: Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani/Nicky | Nicolò di Genova
Comments: 17
Kudos: 335





	A Measure of Love

When they have the freedom to, they all like to sleep in. Andy won’t roll out of bed until well past midday and Nile gets up around ten and then migrates to the couch or to a patch of sunlight to sprawl out like a content house cat. Well, a content house cat fuelled by coffee and novels.

Joe gets up early for salat al-fajr and then comes back to bed. Nicky usually hasn’t even shifted from where he’s curled up in a ball, one hand clutching the blankets and the other tucked under his pillow. He sleeps with his face pressed into the pillow and usually wakes with crease marks on his cheek. Joe takes a moment to admire him before he crawls back into bed. Nicky’s so peaceful looking like this, soft mouth slightly open and eyelashes fanned out over his cheekbones.

It’s warm in Melbourne, and Nicky’s kicked the blankets off the side of the bed, still clutching them in one fist but otherwise completely uncovered. He’d gone to bed in a hoodie and boxers and the hoodie is undoubtedly somewhere under the pile of blankets now, he always shrugs it off during the night, even when it’s freezing outside. His shirt is one of Joe’s now that Joe is more awake and looking at him properly, a faded blue that’s a little too big across Nicky’s shoulders. It’s ridden up in the night too, exposing the curve of Nicky’s stomach and a slice of ribs. Joe wants to press his hand into the softness there but refrains, knowing that like this, that would be enough to wake Nicky.

Instead, he climbs over Nicky and curls around his back, pressing them together again. He slides his arm around Nicky, smiling against the nape of his neck when Nicky huffs and settles into the embrace. Nicky doesn’t even wake up in order to do so, just sinks back into Joe like he’d been waiting for Joe to get back. Knowing Nicky, he probably had been. Even unconsciously, they gravitate towards each other. Joe, so filled with love for his Nicolò, presses a kiss to the nape of Nicky’s neck.

Nicky’s gotten comfortable again and settled back into a deeper sleep and Joe looks at the clock on their bedside table and figures it won’t do too much harm if he goes back to sleep for a while longer. He strokes Nicky’s wrist where he’d been holding it once more and then drops his hand to splay over the curve of Nicky’s tummy, holding Nicky against him. Joe presses his forehead to Nicky’s neck and breathes in the soft smell of their soap and lets the combination of the comforting scent and Nicky’s warm skin under hand lull him back to sleep. 

The room is filled with sunlight when he next wakes, the blinds drawn and Nicky awake in his arms. His hand is still on Nicky’s tummy, even though Nicky has clearly been up and about, and Joe flexes it slightly, pressing in and smiling when Nicky shifts.

“I’m trying to read, hayati.” Joe can hear the smile in Nicky’s words though.

“What book is so fascinating that you can read it this early?”

“It’s past nine, Joe, it’s not that early,” Nicky’s laughing properly now, and Joe knows exactly what his face would look like if he rolled Nicky over in his arms. He can see the crinkles around his eyes and the almost startled expression as Nicky grins. Nicky leans towards smaller smiles, smaller expressions, generally. These wide happy smiles he saves for times like these, when it’s just them and he feels less scrutinised by the world at large. 

Joe smiles into the nape of Nicky’s neck and flexes his fingers again, digging into the softness just to feel the way Nicky chuckles in his arms. 

“You never answered my question.”   
“Hmm? It’s not my fault that you’re distracting.”   
“Oh I’m distracting?”

“Very. I’m reading A Gentleman in Moscow, it’s very good.”

“Oh the one you bought when you and Andy went out the other day?”   
“Mmhmm,” Nicky just hums, clearly caught up in trying to finish his chapter. Joe lets him, content to wake up slowly, his beautiful prickly husband equally content and soft in his arms.

Eventually, Nicky sets the book down on the bedside table and rolls over, tangling their legs together even further and pressing their chests together. He’s awake but still has the rumpled look of someone who has, until very recently, been sleeping. His cheek is no longer pillow creased, but his hair is rumpled and his eyes are soft. 

Joe tilts his chin, stealing a kiss that Nicky smiles into. Nicky would tell anyone, quite happily, that every moment with Joe is his favourite kind of moment. Every second he gets to spend with the love of his life is a blessing. He’d be lying though, if he didn’t admit that these moments, the quiet ones, where it's just the two of them basking in each other’s presence, are his most treasured. He presses his cheek against Joe’s. The softness of Joe’s beard against his cheek is one of Nicky’s favourite things. He has many favourite things, especially when it comes to Joe, as Nile is wont to remind him. Nicky knows this about himself, but he doesn’t see why he should make his love small to content other people. His love is overwhelming and all consuming, present in every word and every action, and that’s exactly how he wants it to be.

“Where have you gone, Nicky?”   
“Just thinking.”

“Hmm?”

“About how much I love you.”

Joe presses a hand more firmly into Nicky’s lower back. Nicky can be a regular chatterbox when he wants to be, but he prefers to express himself in measured terms, each word carefully chosen. Hearing about how much Nicky loves him never fails to warm Joe right through.

“And how much do you love me?”

“Enough to put my book down for you, enough to steal your shirts to sleep in, enough to lie in bed even when I’m hungry, just because you like me sleep warm and affectionate.”

“I do. You are a delight.”

“And you? How much do you love me?”   
“Enough that I will only hold you here another moment, and then we can go in search of breakfast.”

“That’s the perfect amount.”

“I thought so too.”

They laze there in silence, hearts beating in tune and bodies fully intertwined. They’re pressed cheek to cheek, chest to chest, stomach to stomach and calf to calf. They prefer sleeping with Joe pressed against Nicky’s back, but when they have time to just lie there and hold each other, they tend to prefer this. It’s nice to press so close together that they feel like they could almost merge. 

Nicky’s stomach ruins the moment by growling, making them both burst into laughter. Nicky frowns at his middle as if it has personally offended him and Joe rests a hand on his tummy lightly, pretending to look surprised.

“Nicolò, you didn’t tell me there was a demon.”

“I am a demon when hungry, I assumed you would know this after eight hundred years together, hayati.”

“That’s fair. Well then, let’s get your demon fed.”

Nicky kisses Joe again and untangles himself from Joe’s arms regretfully, standing and yawning widely. He stretches and Joe’s eyes track the movement of his shirt, resting softly against his stomach. It was a truly impressive growl. Nicky hunts through the blankets for his hoodie and then gives up, clearly deciding that it’s warm enough to go without and heads towards the door, looking at Joe over his shoulder. It’s a clear demand,  _ well? Aren’t you coming? _

Joe grabs a pair of sweatpants from where he’d dropped them over the back of the armchair and pulls them on.   
“Don’t you want pants, babe?”

“Food first, then pants.”

“Alright.” 

Hungry Nicky really is a demon. Andy and Nile have seen worse, Joe supposes, and he isn’t exactly complaining about the view.


End file.
